


Insomnia

by MsChievous



Series: Whumptober 2018 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidental Self-Harm, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 17:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16180043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous
Summary: After the Fall of Insomnia, Prompto finds his thoughts consumed with how he's betraying his friends, and it eats him up inside.





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> lol accidentally posted the wrong prompt. Good thing I caught it tho XD

“Prompto, what are you still doing up?” The blond nearly jumps out of the chair when he hears Ignis’ whispered voice cut through the silence of their hotel room.

“Oh, I-I couldn’t sleep.”

“That would likely be due to your continued phone usage so late at night. Put it down and go to bed. We all need our sleep.”

Prompto pursed his lips but obeyed. “‘Kay.”

“Good night, Prompto,” The advisor murmured, shifting onto his side.

The blond returned the sentiment, settling beside Noctis despite the gnawing feeling in his chest. It might be a good night, but it sure wouldn’t be a short one.

He actually _did_ manage to doze off a few times, with dreams plagued by Magitek soldiers that scuttled towards him, boring holes into his soul with bright red eyes, knife-sharp fingers, and creaking moans.

Then he _was_ one of the soldiers, bearing down on a crying woman and her child, with fires blazing around him and gunshots as familiar as the screams of the dying. He dispatches the two before turning back to his platoon, falling neatly into step beside them as they cleave their way through Insomnia.

He wakes up with a gasp, a cold sweat slick on his palms and down his back. He feels his heart going overtime and resists the urge to grab at his phone to distract himself. Ignis told him to go to bed. He didn’t want to upset Iggy.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, blondie, time to go,” Gladio called to the figure sitting on the edge of the haven. When he didn’t move, Gladio scoffed and moved to cuff him on the shoulder.

Prompto nearly toppled off the haven with a surprised shout. “Shit, don’t _scare_ me like that!”

“How else am I gonna get your attention? C’mon, Iggy and Noct are waiting at the car. Here, take this.” Gladio held out one of the folding chairs for the blond to take, stopping short when he noticed the scrapes on his hands. “Hold up, you okay?”

Prompto blinked up at Gladio, then followed the Shield’s gaze to his own hands. “Oh, I don’t know how that happened. Doesn’t hurt, though,” he said with a shrug, taking the offered chair.

Gladio made an unconvinced noise, but lead the way to the Regalia.

 

* * *

 

Ignis furrowed his brow as he noticed Prompto’s mostly-full plate. “Are you feeling well? If the food was not to your taste, please do let me know.”

The blond shrugged. “Oh, it was fine. Better than fine, really. I’m just not that hungry,” he said, scratching nervously at the skin below his wristband.

“Well, we’ll save your plate in case you change your mind, okay?”

Prompto nods with a wan smile.

He really must be sick if he wasn’t cracking jokes or jumping headlong into each and every battle. “Why don’t you go to bed early? I’m sure we can all clean up,” Ignis said softly.

“Oh, no,” Prompto shook his head so hard, Ignis thought it would fall off, “that’s okay, I’m not that tired.”

“Y’know, Prom, you’re a shitty liar,” Noctis intoned from his place curled up on the top bunk of the caravan. “C’mon, sleep is awesome.”

The blond’s eyes shifted from Ignis to Noctis, to the bottom bunk he claimed as his own, then at his wristband. “O-okay. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Prompto started back to consciousness after a particularly bad dream whose content was already drifting away save for an all-encompassing feeling of fear and dread settling in his stomach. He tried to take deep breaths to calm himself down, but bed above him and the walls around him were suffocating, pressing against him so that he couldn’t think, couldn’t _breathe_.

He crept out of the caravan as quietly as he could, even with the panic thrumming through his chest. The cool night air brushed through his hair, wicking the sweat from his body, and calming his frazzled nerves minutely. With a sigh, he let the tension wash out of him. As the panic subsided, a muted pain bloomed from his right wrist.

A series of scratches marred the skin around his wristband, and looking underneath- the barcode was worse. How did that- did he? He stared at his other hand, with blood crusted under the fingernails. He didn’t remember scratching that much.

 _Shit_ . This was bad, he was spiraling. He _knew_ he was. But what could he do? He couldn’t tell the others what was going on with him, they would kill him on the spot. He couldn’t go out on his own, he’d never make it. He just… he just had to work it out.

 

* * *

 

It had only been four days since Insomnia fell - since he’d been unable to get any significant amount of sleep, since he’s been unable to stop thinking about where he came from. He’s sure the others have noticed by now based on the worried looks they’ve been giving him, but they haven’t asked him what’s wrong.

It had only been four days, but it felt like four weeks.

“Hey, Prom, c’mere, I wanna show you so- _shit_! Are you okay?”

The blond stared at his friend, who had grabbed his right arm. Then he looked down. “Oh.”

Blood dripped from his arm, bright red against his pale skin.

“What happened? You need a potion! Come on-”

“No, I’m fine, I just-”

“You not fucking _fine_ , Prompto!” He said, dragging him back towards the haven. “We need to get your arm cleaned up.”

He knew he had no choice but to let himself be dragged back to camp. He just wished that they wouldn’t fuss over him or make a big deal over-

“Prompto! You’re bleeding! Are you alright?” Ignis asked from his spot at the cooking station.

“Yes-”

“He’s lying,” Noctis said with a scowl.

“That’s rather apparent. Come here,” the advisor motioned Prompto to his side and pulled out the first aid kit. When he finished cleaning the wound, it became apparent what had happened, and Ignis inspected the blond’s left hand carefully.

“There’s blood under your nails, Prompto.”

“I-I…” Prompto’s words bubbled out of his mouth as if he had no control over them. His heart was a bass drum in his chest, heavy and fast. His head filled with cotton, light and woozy. “I didn’t- it was an accident.”

There was a steadying hand on his arm, thin and cold. Noctis’. “Prompto-” he started, but the advisor’s cough cut him off.

“I believe you. But there is a cause to this that you are not telling us, and it is obviously causing you great distress. It would help if you let us know what’s wrong so we can help you.”

“I-I can’t. I don’t- It’s... “ Prompto takes a deep breath. He comes to the sudden realization that he doesn’t have to tell them the whole truth, that he could tell them anything, and they would accept it. Accept _him_ . “It’s Insomnia. I just… I should- I could have _been_ there. I was supposed to be there. I probably would’ve died, and-”

He lets the words hang in the air rather than continue on and trip over himself and expose his lies.

Noctis’ hand on his arm slides down to his hand and squeezes. “Yeah, that sounds really scary to think of. But also, you weren’t there. And I’m glad you weren’t,” he says with a fond smile that only serves to make the bile creep up the blond’s throat.

But he forces out a smile and leans into Ignis’ presence behind him, squeezing Noctis’ hand back. “Thanks, guys.”

**Author's Note:**

> I meant the end to be fluffier :/


End file.
